


Et in Arcadia Q

by thesadchicken



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Picard
Genre: CBS please hire me, Canonical Character Death, Episode Fix-it, Episode Related, Fix-It, M/M, Star Trek: Picard Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:41:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23551741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesadchicken/pseuds/thesadchicken
Summary: After his final confrontation with the Romulans, Jean-Luc Picard dies on Coppelius. Visited in limbo by an old friend, he gets a second chance at life.Season finale rewrite.
Relationships: Jean-Luc Picard/Q
Comments: 17
Kudos: 50





	Et in Arcadia Q

**Author's Note:**

> I highly recommend listening to [this](https://open.spotify.com/track/0877BrgnRawL9aXeyYKcSV?si=kicK5x3iSc-wErx8PEn_EA) while reading.

A fire crackles in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room. He looks around, taking it all in; the ebony statuettes, arranged in curious patterns on the table and over the fireplace; the stone walls, unadorned but for empty canvases and frames; the bookcase in the corner, antiques lining its shelves… There is stillness, there is peace. The windows look out onto the vastness of space; nebulae and stars, a landscape he knows better than most. The backdrop of his life.

Everything seems to be floating somewhere in the realm of the unknown. Nothing is truly new to him here, although he is certain he’s never been in this room before. Alien and yet oddly familiar.

Of course, his mind is playing the same old trick on him. It seems inescapable. The same thing, over and over, and he’s not sure he has the patience for it this time. He sighs. “Another damn dream…”

The voice that answers startles him. Entirely unexpected, that mocking drawl that takes him back in time.

“Au contraire mon capitaine—” There he is, tall and strange, dark eyes gleaming as always; brimming with unconceivable power, barely contained within his adopted human body. “—or should I say; mon Amiral?”

Alien and yet familiar. It makes sense. Picard’s fingers tremble where they’re gripping the arm of his chair. He watches Q cross the room, so very slowly, and take a seat across from him. He watches with wide-eyed wonder, and he remembers a time when he wouldn’t have allowed himself the lapse – a time when his pride would have made him look away in scorn. He remembers himself back then: the younger man that he used to be, his vehement protestations, _get of my ship_ and _leave me alone_ and _I don’t have time for your games_.

He feels too old for it now. And yet, one last time, with half-hearted intensity, he leans in and says, “Q… what are you doing here?”

It comes out as a whisper, and even Picard can’t mistake his own wonder for wrath. Too tired to pretend he is offended – but perhaps there remains something of his younger self in him, because he bristles at the way Q’s lips curl at the corners. The entity’s amusement slips them both back into their old roles, if only for a few disconcerting seconds.

But then Picard notices Q’s appearance, and he can’t believe he’s missed it until now: gray hair, wrinkled cheeks, age painting the once boyish face with something akin to wisdom... Here is an old man sitting by the fire – _two_ old men, and they are falling into old habits and then falling out again, shifting between the past and the present. Q’s raised eyebrow is a question. _What’s it going to be: wrath or wonder? Old or new? Then or now?_

Picard frowns, eyes travelling Q’s face once more. He can’t quite decide if he wants to be angry or tolerant – isn’t quite sure if he should hold on to what he already knows or make place for the new, no matter how incongruous it seems. He looks at Q’s long white robe. He knows he’s been in this situation before. His memories have resisted time’s ruins and mutilations; he remembers everything _so clearly_. It felt just like this, the first time he saw Q in that robe. Confusion, uncertainty, perhaps even fear. The tapestry of his life unfolding before his very eyes. And the same questions which now rattle around in his head: is this a dream, a vision, the final soliloquy of his dying brain? Or is it –

He doesn’t finish the thought. He sees Q’s hands, one folded over the other, fingers gnarled, liver spots dotting his wrists, and it shakes him to his very core. He looks up. Their eyes meet.

Q’s face is lined and creased now, but his _eyes_... they haven’t changed. It’s even more unsettling than being dragged back and forth through time. A cruel reminder of Picard’s own mortal body, weakening, failing, sinking to the ground and fading…

He remembers himself a dying man. Although he knows the answer, he must ask, “Am I… dead?”

“I see you persist in believing that life and death are irreversible,” Q says, leaning back in his chair, “Have I taught you nothing?”

Picard knows what Q is trying to do. It doesn’t work. The shift has already happened, there can be no return to the past, now is _now_. Admiral Picard is a different man. Everything has changed; that much he can see in every line on Q’s face. It’s not a mockery, but a message.

“Then what—” Picard starts to say.

“You’re not done yet,” Q interrupts him. His posture changes as he speaks, immortal body tensing as if of its own accord. “You’ve barely even started.”

The entity leans in, elbows on his knees. There is weariness – a tiredness that wasn’t there before. Not for the first time, Picard wonders what Q has been up to. What troubles an omnipotent being? What challenges does existence throw his way? Even if there were answers to those questions, Q would certainly not give them away. In this state of lassitude and disillusionment they seem to be the same. An odd thought: Q and himself, the same.

“I’m giving you a choice, Jean-Luc. You can go back and finish what you’ve started,” Q leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other with a dangerous smirk, “Or you can stay here with me… _forever_.”

 _Once more unto the breach_. Picard tilts his head to the side. “I recall making this same bargain with you long ago.”

There is delight in that omniscient gaze. “It’s not a bargain, this time. You just choose.”

“No conditions? No drawbacks?”

“None whatsoever.”

Light from the fireplace dances over the entity’s features. Eyes like marbles, shining with all their cosmic knowledge, and skin like parchment, so very delicate… Picard bites the inside of his cheek and looks away. _Go back or stay here_ – how absurd of Q to even ask such a question. He knows the answer. They both do. It hardly feels like a choice at all; more like a certainty, inevitable.

And yet Picard remembers himself lecturing young Soji, declaring that “to say you have no choice is a failure of imagination.” Is that it? Is he being unimaginative by refusing to even consider the possibility of…

A door opens behind Picard with a well-known swoosh. Blinding white light seeps into the room and he sees his shadow outlined against the floor at Q’s feet.

“So?” Q says, raising his chin.

Picard blinks twice, shaking himself out of his momentary stupor. He’s suddenly and inexplicably embarrassed of being caught in the act of considering it. Surely Q isn’t expecting him to think it over? Well, it’s too late. He already did.

There it is again, the infuriating smirk. Q raises both eyebrows. Picard swallows. How he’s changed; to be sitting here, quietly making up his mind, thinking he and Q were maybe not so different – and believing it. He almost wants to ask, _what happened to you?_ So many questions, _what happened to you_ and _why are you here_ and _where were you all these years?_

If Q hears any of it, he does not react. Just the same teasing expression but on an older man’s face. Not a mockery but a message, Picard was certain of it. Is this – the ridiculously easy choice he’s been given – a message too?

That’s when he understands. He was right all along: it isn’t meant to be a choice at all. Q knows that Picard will always want to go back, if only to escape an eternity here. He’s coaxing him, using life as the proverbial carrot and himself as the stick. _Go back or else…_

Another memory comes to him then, of an empty courtroom and flowing red robes. Their last encounter; Q sitting across from him, neither friend nor foe. He helped Picard back then – covered it up with puzzles and riddles, but helped him all the same. This isn’t any different. Just another way of saving an old mortal’s life.

Picard smiles. He’ll play the part. “As... _delightful_ as eternity with you sounds, I think I’d rather go back.”

Q returns the smile. “Yes, I thought you’d say that. Very well then,” he gestures to the door.

The same but different. New but familiar. Paradoxes are Picard’s specialty now, apparently. He gets up, nodding at Q. He makes his way to the door, which opens on white nothingness. Right before crossing the threshold, he turns.

“You said I need to finish what I’ve started. Is that what you meant, all those years ago? _The untold possibilities of existence?_ ”

The smile falters for just an instant, and Q whispers, “You’ll find out.”

The entity fades, leaving the room empty, floating through space like a wayward starship. Picard takes a deep breath and walks through the door. When they’ll ask him what happened, he will say, _I was visited by an old friend_.

He will have to thank Q next time. _Next time_. It’s the last thing he thinks before he closes his eyes.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> I was unbelievably disappointed with the way things ended on ST:Picard ( [here](https://thesadchicken.tumblr.com/post/613768129294876672) are my thoughts on that, in case you're interested ) so I decided to rewrite that ending. I also made a teeny tiny video to go with the fic, because really, it would have been _epic_.  
> Fingers crossed that Q will make an appearance in season 2!


End file.
